What Do You Say?
by Griselda Banks
Summary: Oneshot. Another one of those fics that shows the progression of Mustang and Hawkeye's relationship, because I have no better ideas. My contribution to Royai Day. Some spoilers for manga Chapters 58 and 60.


**Author's Note: Happy Royai Day! As is usual when I'm writing Royai, this piece isn't exactly earth-shattering. It's just another piece demonstrating everyone's favorite romance ;) I got the idea for this from the title of the C2 I manage with Dailenna. Enjoy!**

**Oh, and for those who haven't read my other Royai fics, or for those who forgot, or for those who just like to be annoying: I am full aware that I have changed Hawkeye's name to Liza. I did that because I like the spelling better. You're perfectly welcome to disagree with me, but please don't tell me, "Lulz, it's spelled Riza. I don't kno how u fergat that."**

"So what do you say, Liza?"

The first time Roy Mustang asked it was the day after one of the most embarrassing and revealing moments of Liza Hawkeye's life. When the door closed behind her and she turned her back to him, she suddenly wished she could be someone, anyone else. Why did she have to have an obsessively possessive alchemist for a father? Why couldn't she have a sibling who could have borne the tattoo instead of her? And why, oh why couldn't she have never met Roy Mustang, the man she was certain was the rightful heir to flame alchemy?

When he finally let out a sigh (which she could feel breezing across her back) and murmured, "All right. I...think I've got it now," she didn't think she could stand looking him in the face. Thankfully, he didn't linger either, and they avoided each other the rest of that day.

They were forced to see each other, however, at breakfast the next morning. When their eyes first met, Liza's cheeks grew warm and Roy offered her a shaky smile. After several silent helpings of bacon, he made an attempt at conversation with that question, but Liza had no idea what he was talking about.

"Sorry..." he mumbled in reply to her questioning look. "Supposed to be a joke... Never mind." And he said nothing more till they made their farewells.

"So what do you say, Hawkeye?"

The second time, Liza was in a vastly different position. The Ishbal annihilation campaign had finally come to an end, and Liza Hawkeye found herself reporting to Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang's office. Both of their lives had changed drastically since her father's funeral, and she couldn't be sure if these changes were for the better or the worse.

She didn't think she would ever be able to look at Roy Mustang the same. The greenhorn she had bid farewell to at her father's mansion was gone, killed and possessed by the pitiless Flame Alchemist. And it only hurt worse when she considered it had been she who had given birth to that killing machine.

It was small consolation to know that there would never be another Flame Alchemist. It was the least they could do, so Liza had asked him to burn her back. She could still see his face, filled with anger and revulsion at such a thought, but he had done it anyway. He, too, longed for an end to the Flame Alchemist.

The pain when he had sent the flames dancing across her back... She didn't think she would ever forget it. It was a mirror-image experience to when her father had tattooed it on there to begin with. Yet this pain didn't seem quite so bad, somehow; she could sense the gentleness in his fingers even though nothing but his flames touched her. So she bit down on the pain, gritted her teeth, and forced herself not to scream. The effort it took to keep back her tears as well brought beads of sweat out on her forehead.

She didn't even realize this until he pressed a damp cloth to her forehead, wiping the perspiration away. "I'm sorry, Hawkeye," he whispered. "I'm sorry for everything." Somehow, this apology reassured her (as if she needed reminding) that he was the right man to possess her father's secrets.

It was less than a week later that she found herself working under him, slowly getting used to the world of offices and paperwork. One day, she briefly found herself alone in the office with the Lieutenant-Colonel; the other men in the office had all left to perform one duty or another. And then Lieutenant-Colonel Mustang looked up and asked into the previously silent air his odd question.

"Pardon?" Liza asked in surprise.

Mustang repeated himself, but Liza frowned and said, "I'm afraid you'll have to explain further, sir. I have no idea what you're talking about."

He looked almost diappointed, but he waved his hand and said it didn't matter.

"So what do you say, Lieutenant?"

They say the third time's the charm. Apparently, this is so, for the third time Roy Mustang asked Liza Hawkeye his question, she understood. The irony was not lost on her, either, that while his words became twice as formal each time, his voice grew ten times more tender.

She hadn't even thought about those odd little questions of his for years, but as soon as he asked it, those memories flooded back with all the force of those forgotten years behind them. Looking back on it now, she felt like laughing at her younger, bewildered self. How could she not have understood what he was getting at? To be sure, he hadn't really been serious the first time he had asked, and the second time had been somewhat half-hearted as well, but now he was completely serious. His resolve was made, and he would keep asking until she gave the answer he wanted.

All that aside, she understood perfectly what he was talking about now. Years of spending nearly every hour of every day at his side had enabled her to read his every move as though he was shouting out his thoughts for all to hear. So when he asked his question the third time, she was ready with an answer.

It might have helped that, when he asked her the third time, he held in his hand a golden ring.


End file.
